#Mentions of drugs

[theminecraftbee]

There’s a flier someone’s left on the bus. Something shaming a—company logo he doesn’t recognize, as he shoves it aside to grab the last seat in the back that usually means he and Gem don’t have to sit next to anyone else—for “desecration of the Carrows Life”. Alright; with a logo and a slogan like that, it’s either a religious nut job or one of the people real mad at the Church about the demons.

Yeah, sure. He’s exhausted. Impulse can’t really bring himself to care about neon-yellow fliers in the dead of night on the bus.

Just another hour and practically every single stop down the line, and he’ll be home. He’s glad there’s a late-night bus down here; enough people come and go from these streets at two am that they make some poor bus driver do the route.

Next to him, Gem grumbles as she removes her makeup. “Impulse, why do I keep getting the waterproof kind?”

“Hard to dance and still look good if it doesn’t stand up to sweat,” Impulse says, settling into his seat as the bus starts moving again. “Don’t see why that should make it that much harder to remove, unless you’re sweating acetone these days, but they don’t pay me to know how your makeup works.”

“No, they pay you to be your stupid big protective butt. You absolutely know how my makeup works,” Gem says.

“You could wait until we aren’t on a moving bus to take it off?” Impulse offers.

“Nah. I need something to do so I don’t fall asleep, and I’m not opening my other bag until we’re both safely at home.”

“Yeah, fair,” Impulse says, not glancing at it for too long. Gem had a good night tonight. Sometimes, he’s jealous of the nights she has; the amount people are willing to throw at her sometimes is insane. Most of the time, though, he’s just glad he’s paid a regular salary to stand in the corner and occasionally show people exactly why he’s so big if they act up.

(Someone’s got to do it.)

The doors open. The unmistakeable smell of someone on way, way too much weed wafts through the doors. Impulse sighs. There’s a reason they sit in the back.

“What are the odds we get lucky and get home early?” Gem says. “My knee hurts.”

Impulse looks at her sharply. “You didn’t say anything during the show.”

Gem laughs. “Relax, relax. Not that bad. Nothing a bit of icyhot won’t solve, or one of your little…” She wiggles her fingers.

“You need to tell me these things before you dance on them, Gem,” Impulse says. “One of these days, I won’t be able to fix it! Then what are you gonna do about your knee, huh?”

“Uhuh. And the bruise on your face…?”

“He was drunk,” Impulse says. “It’s barely a scratch. Or, uh, well, it’s a bruise, but…”

“If I were any good at healing,” Gem says.

“I’ll ice it!” Impulse says, putting his hands up. “Besides, I don’t need my face to do my job. Might make guys respect me more?”

The bus stops. A few more people get on. There’s a bit of shouting from a drunk guy, and it makes Impulse look up on instinct, both his and Gem’s awareness hovering around their bag. Gem has a nasty curse on it if anyone but her tries to grab it, but these days…

The drunkard isn’t looking their way. He settles down again. Impulse doesn’t.

“One day, one of us will get a car, and we’ll just drive,” Impulse mutters.

“And pay for parking?” Gem asks.

“Well, it’s the thought that counts,” Impulse says.

The bus stops. Impulse looks up at the sign, just to make sure they aren’t near their stop. They aren’t. He almost looks down.

There’s a feeling in his gut. He doesn’t ignore gut feelings after as long as he’s been doing what he does. He puts a hand in his jacket. He doesn’t actually carry a gun; people think he does, but he’s fairly effective at threatening without it, and if all else fails, he does have a thick vest he’d bought with his own money after the only time he’d been shot. It had taken all of his savings, but it had been worth it.

He curls his fingers instead around the lucky charm Gem had given him after they’d become roommates and tries to focus on the feeling. There's something scraping nearby. A horrible scraping, like talons against brick, or maybe more like death clawing against soil.

The bus starts moving again. The drunks stay drunk. The fellow exhausted club and bar workers stay exhausted. The guy who’s high out of his mind doesn’t even blink.

A woman who had gotten on the bus, though, approaches them. Gem stiffens. Impulse is hyper-aware of the bag full of the night’s tips that Gem has with her.

“Hello. Sorry for interrupting,” the woman says. She’s tall. She has long, light brown hair that she hasn’t tied back. She’s wearing a long overcoat. It looks second-hand, but not properly so, like it’s being worn by someone who doesn’t quite know how to fit into second-hand clothes, or perhaps doesn’t quite know how not to fit.

There's bruises on her face, too. A split lip and a black eye and a bit of blood on the collar of her shirt.

"You look lost," Impulse says without thinking. The woman blinks.

"Oh! Yes, I suppose you could say that," she says. "That's..."

Impulse slowly takes his hand out of his jacket. Her voice is even more lost, somehow. Impeccably put-together. Very hard to read. But Impulse, he has to read people for a living, and this is a woman who is lost.

"I was just here because you two look the most aware and fit on the bus," she says.

"Oh, I'm not all that fit," Gem lies to the woman's face. "I mean, just look at me! I'm delicate!"

Impulse has seen Gem's abs. She's not delicate, she just puts on a show of being—still not delicate, actually, but the kind of not-delicate men like, not the kind of not-delicate she actually is. It's a fine line.

The woman raises an eyebrow. "Okay," she says. "I'm just—there are demons. Not far. I got away from them, but they might be following you."

"They're following you?" says Gem.

"Shhh," says the woman.

"Fine," Impulse says. "They're following you. Why? And why did you get on the bus?"

The woman is silent for a moment. "I don't think they'll catch up to us," she says. "I don't—I don't have another place to go back to, right now. I'm a bit... I don't mean to put anyone in danger. You two are the most fit looking people on here, is all. If danger did happen..."

Impulse feels something in him crack. He looks at Gem. It wouldn't be the first time the two of them have helped someone down on their luck off the streets. Of course, it's not entirely out of the goodness of their hearts, all the time, but, well, Impulse is still Impulse and Gem puts up with it and this world doesn't work if people don't help each other, Impulse has always said.

Gem shrugs and nods.

"Sit down. You can get off at our stop. My name's Gem, by the way."

The woman, slowly, sits down in a seat across from them.

"Impulse," Impulse says.

The woman opens her mouth. The woman closes it. "You can call me Griba," she says, finally.

Impulse quirks an eyebrow. "I can call you?"

"Hey, that sounds like—wasn't there someone with a name like that on the news recently?" Gem says.

The woman grimaces. "You could say that," she says.

Gem and Impulse look at each other. They look back at the woman. "Fine then. Keep your secrets," Gem says imperiously, and her tone works, because it makes—Griba, Impulse supposes, until she wants to give them her real name—laugh.

"At least until we find out if the demons get me," she says agreeably.

The bus stops again. They all tense. One person gets off and no one gets on. The bus starts moving again.

"One of these days," Impulse mutters.

"You've got to finish the sentence," Gem says. "Don't leave me hanging like that!"

"Is this an ongoing thing?" Griba says, and they continue onwards together.

[kittyfuckincheshire]

❤HAZBIN HOTEL HEADCANNONS ❤ 🍷🍺HOLDING YOUR DRINK🍺🍷

CHARLIE- what he's it attentively like any normal person and makes sure no one messes with it.

VAGGIE- would actively fight anyone who looked suspicious and got near your drinck.

ANGEL DUST- pretends he's to cool to watch it but he actually does because he gets it,he would probably fuck some one up if they actually tried to mess with it.

NIFFTY-Would most likely get distracted and leave it unattended and apologize when you got back.

HUSK- what he's it like a hawk but begrudgingly, he loves the fact that you trust him to guard your drink,he just hates that he has to watch it instead of drink his booze.

SIR PENTIOUS- misunderstands and watches your drink like he should watch a baby or a pet.so when you come back he's holding your drink in his arms like a baby.

CHERRIE BOMB- she would just drink it and then get you a new one,especially if its alcohol.

ALASTOR- if you were a girl he would step away from it and use his powers to gauge it and scare anyone who messes with it,if you were a boy then he would just leave it alone most likely.

ROSSIE- would watch it and rip the limbs off of anyone who dares mess with it when she's around she would most likely eat the person who gets to mess with your drink.

VALENTINO- he would most likely drug it,so he can have his way with you when you come back.

VELVETTE- would just ignore it and focus on here phone,if something were to happen to your drink she would most likely take you home as a sorry.

VOX- vox would just throw you drink in the trash,and get you a new one when you came back.

LUCIFER- he would probably fiddle with it but he would make sure no one (other than him) would mess with it.

ADAM- would drug it and wait till you got back to go play his guitar with the DJ or band so he can see what happens from afar and laugh.

LUTE- would just leave it on the counter and not bother watching it.

EMILY- she doesn't quite understand,but she makes sure to watch it with all her focus until you got back.

[thequeenxofhearts]

Blake and Jones | The Deceived Chapter 5

Posting chapter 5 early as I have a busy weekend, enjoy! :)

[opossumprints]

I keep thinking about what the fourth would be like the summer after Vecna is defeated

I think about how everyone is kinda nervous about getting fireworks after everything but Wayne and Eddie have a tradition of lighting fireworks together and after everything they have been through the group decides “ehhh worth a shot” and besides it’ll be something nice for their two newest members

Eddie’s the one who gets all the fireworks and it’s things called, like, “nuclear war fair” and “the Big One tm” and one shaped like a taco. Needless to say Eddie is NOT allowed to light them.

However Hopper refuses to light them because he’s had to deal with too many idiots blowing themselves sky high in the name of patriotism and wants nothing to do with it.

So the duty falls to Steve.

Steve who takes his sweet ass time walking away once he’s lit the fuse and stands concerningly close, arms crossed, still holding the lighter.

Hey, if he had to launch rockets at a melted-people-monster while high off his ass and beat to high hell he can handle these glorified sparklers.

[roses-r-rosie3]

Never Stop Me

Harlan Briggs x M!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, kind of angsty/fluffy

Summary: y/n and Harlan did not to like each other but that changes while they are being questioned

Y/n and Harlan were polar opposites. Harlan was a fuck boy who ‘doesn’t do relationships’. Y/n on the other hand was a very loyal person and was nice to anyone he met, except one person, Harlan. Y/n didn’t really like Harlan because Harlan hooked up with y/n’s boyfriend. But besides that y/n had a crush on Harlan. He didn’t know why, but he did.

Y/n started noticing things change about him. Y/n was outside one day. He was walking through the park when he heard someone tell him to duck. Little did he know a football was flying towards him. But his reflexes made him catch it. Y/n thought that it was just a dumb luck that he caught the football in time. But when y/n got home, he was setting up a new shelf that he just bought. Apparently y/n built it loosely because the second he left it, he felt his reflexes making him move before he could get injured by the things.

Later in the night y/n felt something calling him. He couldn’t stop himself, he put on his jacket as he started to run out of his room. “Y/n where are you going in such a rush?” Said his parents, but y/n didn’t respond he just kept running. It led him to a dead forest. He later saw Luna, Blake, Everett, and Harlan arrive there to.

They start talking about how they are pack and all that

“Are you kidding me? That whiny bitch is apart of our pack” said Harlan. “I’m sorry are you talking about me?” Said y/n. “Yes and what about it” said Harlan getting closer to y/n’s face. “Last time I checked you slept with my fucking boyfriend? If anything you’re the whiny one! You’re always arguing about finding you’re fucking dad!” Said y/n. Harlan didn’t really take that lightly as he tried to punch y/n but again y/n’s reflexes helped him avoid the punch.

“Don’t fucking talk about my dad like that!” Said Harlan as Luna had to hold her brother back while Blake and Everett held y/n back. All of a sudden Blake said she had to go as she ran away from the fight. “Blake!” Said Everett as he ran after her. Y/n just rolled his eyes as him, Luna, and Harlan chased after them. They ran into Prisha as she instructed them to go home.

Nothing else really happened after that. But all of a sudden the cops knocked on y/n’s door to take him and the rest of them for questioning for why him and the rest of the group were at the forest. They all say at a chair. Y/n was the last one there forcing him to sit next to Harlan. They started to discuss what to say. They decided on telling the cops they were smoking weed. Before they went to go get questioned y/n felt bad for what he said to Harlan so he pulled Harlan aside to talk for a bit.

“Y/n I swear to god if you say something else I’m going to-” Harlan was cut off by y/n. “I didn’t pull you aside to start another argument, I just wanted to say sorry, I felt bad for what I said to you back there, about you’re dad, how is he by the way?” Said y/n sincerely. “He’s going to be fine, besides why do you even care” said Harlan. “I’m just here to say sorry okay? That’s all” said y/n. Harlan knew y/n was lying by the way his heart was beating. “Cut the shit y/n tell me what else you wanted to tell me” said Harlan. “Fine, I kind of like you okay? I know you slept with my boyfriend and all that but I like you, I don’t know why but-” y/n was cut off by Harlan’s pulling him in for a kiss.

“Well I definitely wasn’t expecting that” said y/n who was a little shocked. “Well I actually like you too, and maybe we could go out some day” said Harlan. “I thought dates weren’t your thing” said y/n. “Yeah, but I’ll make you an acceptation” said Harlan. “Harlan, y/n they called us for questioning” said Luna.

Luna saw y/n and Harlan talking and decided to tease her brother before they were questioned. “So you and y/n are like a thing now huh? Or is he just another one of your hookups” said Luna. “Oh shut up” said Harlan rolling his eyes.

A/n: idk how I feel about this but I wanted my first story about Harlan not to be smut so maybe the next Harlan story will be a bit of smut ;)

[muekyn]

stoner!eren headcanons

usually seems annoyed and/or angry but he's just. really fucking high all the time and doesn't know what's going on. the more you talk to him the more you realize he's just baked, and not trying to be rude.

he's the serious type when he gets high. will talk to you for hours about anything and everything, but expect him to be very blunt. he has a hard time grasping what is and isn't okay to say, the weed unfilters him at times

prefers smoking in his car with a cozy blanket. has definitely accidentally fallen asleep in his car a few times while hotboxing.

constantly wanting to hotbox with armin, connie, and jean. (depending on if him and jean are arguing that week or not)

goes for walks while hitting his pen or smoking a blunt. loves to be outdoors. he prefers the solitude

gets super super focused on things when he gets high. if he gets a new game or a takes on a new hobby, expect him to forget to sleep and eat.

he's clumsy for sure. stuttering and slurring his words, drops things. bumping into objects, tries to talk but forgets his sentences halfway through.

uses other substances but nothing too bad. he vapes for sure. will smoke a cigarette every now and then, drinks occasionally. he prefers the way he feels when high over anything else

weed substance of choice? definitely actual weed. close runner up is dabs or edibles

all his clothing smells like weed. in fact, everything he owns has a slight smoke smell to it. you've learned to refer to it as his "eren scent".

always wants to roll the joint but hasn't exactly learned how to. they always come out crumpled or crooked. jean teases him incessantly about it.

his feelings are amplified when he gets high. was he having a bad day? prepare for him to yell to you about it while he lights a joint.

if you smoke one on one with him, expect him to fill the air with conversation. he enjoys having back and forth conversation where he feels listened to

there are moments of silence with him that feel comfortable; there's no pressure to talk. you're just gazing up at the stars and contemplating your existence. eren will join you.

[oodlesndoodles]

All the stickers i just got to cheer me up

[batmanrogues-scenarios]

How would Riddler, Harley, Mad Hatter, & Ivy respond to watching Scarecrow tasting some of his own fear toxin & just standing there blankly for a few minutes before saying something like "Hm, this batch needs more LSD."

LMAO

Riddler

Just stares weirdly at him, wondering how can he be so big of an idiot

"You're okay? "

Gives up when he just stares so goes around looking through his stuff

Then he hears the comment and jumps

"I knew you added drugs into this stuff!"

Harley Quinn

Just let's out a laugh asking if he's alright

When he doesn't response he just jumps around him saying "Helloo??"

When she learns what he adds to his toxin she gets exited

"Can I have some? Please? Please? Please?!"

Mad Hatter

Doesn't realize Jon tried his toxin at first

Then he asked him something and saw he wasn't moving

Tries to get his attention but gives up after a while

When Jon speaks again Jervis goes "Yuck" when hearing what he's adding to the toxin

"You should really try tea instead. "

Poison Ivy

Facepalms

Just sits there waiting until he gets back to reality

Plant grabs his spoon and wacks him in the head

"You and your fake toxin."

[x688plsloveme]

Mistaken Identity

Danai gets beat up horribly and wakes up, pain medication still coursing through her body, and mistakes Hancock for her late husband.

Hancock bursts into the clinic, panicking in a way he hasn't felt in years. He's uncaring of the volunteers as he shoves them aside to the head doctor. He doesn't know her name - doesn't care either - all he knows is that she would be the one to do surgery on Danai. On the woman he's given his heart to.

She looks startled when he stops in front of her. He speaks, "Where. Is. She?"

Understanding flashes across her face. "She's down the hall, second door to your left."

He doesn't even say thank you before sprinting to her room. Here, he calms down, knowing that Danai could very well be able to hear everything happening outside her room. He doesn't want to stress her out further.

He opens the door and there she is. All the tension in him washes away immediately when he sees her, healing and breathing and alive. He smiles. He moves to close the short distance between them, but he doesn't get two steps before he hears her.

"Nate?"

His heart sinks into his stomach.

Of course Hancock knows who Nate is, but that doesn't make the reality of her calling out for another man any less painful. He's the one with her now. He's the one who's been with her through most of her journey in this hellscape. He's the one who loves her every day through thick and thin.

"Nate, come here."

His hands get shaky. Her mind doesn't even go to him. He can hear in her voice that she has a lot of Med-X in her body - at least that explains something. It still hurts and he wants to leave, but he's never refused her before. He makes his way over to her and sits down on the bed beside her, avoiding her hand when she reaches out to grab his. His heart squeezes when she makes a small, sad sound because of it, but he loves her too much to shatter her dream.

If Nate is what she needs, Nate is who she's gonna get.

He instead pats her on the head, running his hand over her locks in what he hopes is a soothing gesture.

She hums, content. He continues to do this for a few minutes, thoughts racing around his head as he struggles to not disturb her with him anxiously bouncing his leg.

She quietly asks, "Talk to me Nate. Feels like for'ver since I heard you."

Hancock cringes and stops his movements. He weighs in his head whether he should try to oblige or not - if she would notice how gravely his voice is in her drugged, half-asleep state.

He struggles to keep his voice from shaking and says, "I'm here."

There's a pinch in her brow for a moment before she relaxes again. "Must be sick," she mumbles. She nestles into her pillows some more, looking seconds away from drifting off.

"I love you, Nate," is the last thing she says before falling asleep again.

Hancock stays there for a while, tears welling up in his eyes as he finally grabs her hand. He's gentle - couldn't be anything else with her if he wanted to. Every flaw of his runs through his brain as he tries to figure out why she didn't call out for him once. He sinks to the floor, kneeling and clutching her hand as the tears begin to fall. He needs to do better. Needs to be more for her. Needs to do something. There has to be a reason!

Right?

He looks at her, tears obscuring his vision slightly. She looks so peaceful even with all the bandages and tubes on and in her. She's beautiful. He will figure out how to be better to her. He knows he can't live without her.

He brings her hands to his lips, placing a tender kiss on her knuckles.

"I love you too, Sunshine."

[stackofstories]

back for more Stoll headcanons—

Connor and Travis Stoll are from the mountains of VA, close to Tennessee, and they absolutely speak with a mountain accent, know how to hunt, fish, and sit on your porch and speak about nothin and everything for hours. They have distant memories of being raised up on green bean casserole, corn bread, and fried fish.

For the most part, these boys are white passing. From their mom’s side, they mixed w/ Native American, white, and black. They carry a swarthy complexion. In the summer they get the questions because they tan deep brown in the summer. And have some tight curls in their head.

Mom was a foster kid. She was sharp as tool with a gift for running. She found her way to the University of Tennessee with a full ride. Her favorite class, Ancient Civilizations and Linguistics, was taught by a guy named Professor Djehuty.

Mom met a guy. He was one of Professor Djehuty’s friends. She fell hard and fast for his cocksure smile and quicksilver tongue. She had Travis in April. And the guy disappeared only to show up again, and she had Connor, the following April. On the same day.

Mom got injured running. She was prescribed some pills to make the pain go away… it was only supposed to be a temporary solution. Travis has this memory, well, he can’t tell if it’s a memory or a half dream, but he remembers going to doctors office with Mom and instead of friendly doctor he sees a scaly monster. The whole office slithers with monsters nodding sympathetically and writing scrips for pain.

Another guy shows in the picture. He makes mom feel good & the boys do their best to keep out of the house when he’s around; his mood is unpredictable. But it isn’t too long before Mom and her beau are fighting like they’re out to kill. Mom must have thrown the loser out five times hollering for whole world to hear she was never going to give him another shot. It never lasts long. She and beau end up on the couch, space-eyed and gone forgetting about everything like groceries and electricity and her two boys…

A teacher catches wind of this when Connor is caught stealing food during recess, mottled bruises hidden under his shirt. It doesn’t take long before he and his brother are removed from the home into worse homes. Mom gets her act together as many times as they are pulled from the home (six homes in Travis’s seven years of life, but who is counting?) with promises to be better as soon as they’re reunited. It never lasts long.

Mom dies one day. Overdoses. & Travis makes the executive decision to run before anyone gets any big ideas.

They’ve got no kin that they know of, but Mom’s best memories are those of Professor Djehuty. They come right up to his door and demand he take them in. And he does so with thick barbecue sauce smeared across his lip, keeping Travis and Connor surrounded by a babysitting team of baboons and ibises, until they’re ready to head up to New York on their own.

Connor and Travis arrive in Camp Half Blood a little after their 7th and 8th birthdays.

[prokopetz]

The funny thing to me about those "the combat drugs we give to the mech pilots make you grow boobs" hornyposts is that this legitimately is a known side effect of a wide range of drugs and medications. Just about any non-trivial chemical imbalance can potentially make you grow boobs. Breast growth is a known symptom of alcoholism. Some male bodybuilders experience female-typical breast development as a side effect of steroid use. Even kidney problems can induce breast growth. The human body is evidently just itching to grow boobs!

[rahwriteswhump]

two lives ruined: (whumptober 2024, day three)

prompts: set up for failure, wrongfully arrested, fingerprints, "i warned you"

fandom: mean girls (2004)

trigger warnings: mentions of drugs, alcoholism

ship (m/f): ron duvall/sharon norbury

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ron Duvall regrets everything.

Any sensible man would pick the safety of his students over a woman, and he did just that. But he regrets everything.

That damn Regina George.

He hates himself for it, but with all his encouragement of reporting bullying and 'coming forward,' the assemblies he'd held, he wishes she hadn't said anything.

Maybe Sharon would still be herself, still be here.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sharon wasn't an addict. She's never been near being one. The idea of drugs never even sounded appealing to her.

And alcohol doesn't count, she says to herself

But being accused of anything, any crime at all, it was a threat to her perfect image.

Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration. Her image was definitely less than perfect. But she had a stable job, what she had thought was the beginning of a romance with Ron...

Ron. She can't think about him right now. She has to focus on the other depressing part of her life.

She'd been arrested. And she'd been released almost as quickly. But she'd lost her job, the only part of her life she found comfort in.

And now here she is, in rehab once again. And the only thing she wants anymore, the only thing she feels, well,

She wishes Cady Heron were dead. She wishes she could go back, hear the faux-sweetness of her "Ms Norbury?" and go "I warned you." Say those three words and choke her to death.

Tonight, she will dream of bottles of vodka. Her subconscious will illustrate the exact lines, the smudges of her fingerprints on glass after glass, and it'll do it in striking detail.

And tonight, both Sharon and Ron will know one thing: they somehow failed life.

[billymayslesbian]

Before Lionblaze could argue, another shape burst through the billowing smoke to stand beside Squirrelflight. His eyes glared; his gray fur was matted together and stuck with bits of burnt leaf and twig. Confused by the smoke and flames, Hollyleaf almost thought she was seeing one of her warrior ancestors, until she recognized Ashfur.

Squirrelflight dropped the branch. “Help me push it into the fire!” she yowled.

Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.

The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in herbelly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.

“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”

“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.

Hollyleaf felt her fur beginning to rise. What did Ashfur mean?

Lionblaze’s golden pelt was bristling, too. “What have you done with my father?” he howled through the flame.

Ashfur looked at him pityingly; his eyes were twin points of fire amid the burning forest. “Why would I waste my time with Brambleclaw?”

The main branch was too solid to catch fire easily, but the leaves on it had shriveled and the twigs were beginning to smoke. Hollyleaf realized that they didn’t have much time before their bridge to safety would be ablaze.

Squirrelflight staggered up to Ashfur. Hollyleaf had never seen her mother so angry. Her fur bristled with fury; she looked like a warrior of TigerClan. Yet it was obvious that the climb to the top of the cliff, followed by her struggle with the branch, had weakened her, and she was exhausted.

“Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop,” she hissed. “Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I’m Brambleclaw’s mate, not yours. You can’t keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be.”

Ashfur’s ears flicked up in surprise. “I have no quarrel with Brambleclaw.”

Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze. “That’s not how it looks to me,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t care less about Brambleclaw,” Ashfur continued. “It’s not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat.”

Faithless? A growl began to build in Hollyleaf ’s throat, but then she stopped and watched the cats on the other side of the blazing branches. Something ominous was taking place in front of her, and even with flame roaring around them she felt a sudden chill. She shrank closer to Lionblaze and Jayfeather, whose head was up, his sightless eyes intent, as if he could see the confrontation between his mother and Ashfur.

“I know you think I’ve never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you’re wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight.” Ashfur’s voice shook with rage. “It always has been.”

Horrified, Hollyleaf took a step back and felt her hind paws begin to slip on the edge of the cliff. Her head spun as lightning stabbed out and thunder drowned all other sounds, even the roaring fire. For a heartbeat she dangled over empty air, and she let out a strangled yowl.

Then she felt firm teeth meet in her scruff; blinking against the smoke, she realized that Lionblaze was hauling her back to safety. But there was no safety: only the hungry flames, and Ashfur blocking the end of the branch with fury in his eyes. Fiery sparks floated down on all three young cats, scorching their fur, and flames licked the underside of the branch; fear flooded afresh through Hollyleaf when she saw that it was already beginning to smolder.

Ashfur has to let us get out! But Hollyleaf couldn’t find any words to plead with him. What was happening here didn’t have anything to do with them, even if they died because of it.

“All this was moons ago.” Squirrelflight sounded puzzled. “Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset.”

“Upset?” Ashfur echoed. “I’m not upset. You have no idea how much pain I’m in. It’s like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood. . . .”

His eyes clouded and his voice took on a wild, distant tone, as if he could see the blood spilling out of him now, sizzling on the burning ground. Terror burst through Hollyleaf and she pressed closer to her brothers. This cat was more dangerous than the storm or the fire, or the fall lurking perilously close to her hind paws.

Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.

“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”

Hollyleaf ’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”

Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”

“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”

“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.

“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”

“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”

The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.

Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked flat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.

Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”

Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?

Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.

“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”

[locusfandomtime]

compilation of all the iconic insane mumbo jumbo posts

wanted to get them all in one place. feel free to add

[bamsara]

Local chaos god gets humbled, creates chaos over it. His aim still needs some work though

I really need to stop drawing Drunken Gods chapter stuff and actually finish the damn chapter lmao